On mothering popes and fostering vocations

On Sunday, May 18, the Church and the world celebrated the installation of a new pope. Since the election of Pope Leo XIV, the response has been surreal in many ways. For those of us in America, the very thing we had been told was impossible came true: a pope was chosen from among us. And the universal reaction to Pope Leo has been resounding: excitement, hope, peace, tenderness, humor, prayer … maybe we could even call it renewal. The desire to love him is palpable; the hope that he will lead us well as a charitable father burns in our hearts. 

While the future of Pope Leo’s pontificate is currently known only to the mind of God, one theme has emerged through the beautiful stories shared on social media and in news articles: the role of the domestic church and faithful communities in forming our young people. 

While scrolling through social media, I was struck by a few posts in particular that highlighted the role of the domestic and communal church. 

A young vocation

One, a post by Emily Zanotti on X (formerly Twitter), shared: “It’s so weird as an American mom to think the Pope is a possibility for a kid. Like I know someone has to be Pope but it always seemed like a foreign, maybe a rich family thing. But this Pope was an altar boy at a suburban Chicago parish. He’s got a really normal looking brother and family. Like … it’s so weird!” I, too, have had this thought while nursing or rocking my 13-month-old son to sleep. Not so much the thought that my son could be pope one day — that’s too much to consider when the little one is sleeping on your chest — but rather the broader implication: that vocations come from everywhere, but they start in the home. 

Our pope’s boyhood pastime now gives hope to us all: What is cultivated in the home matters. 

Lauren of the popular Catholic account @brickhouseinthecity on Instagram shared: “Before the world called him Pope, he was just a little boy in his family’s home, setting up for ‘Mass’ with the only altar he had — an ironing board. His brother John remembers it clearly. While other kids played school or army, Leo played priest. And he made his siblings go to Mass.” In his early years of formation, young Robert (also called Bob) was drawn to the priesthood. Yet this image of a young boy “playing priest” is not isolated. Most of us have probably witnessed this picture ourselves, whether with our own sons or in adorable videos shared on social media. And yet our pope’s boyhood pastime now gives hope to us all: What is cultivated in the home matters. 

And that’s the crux of it: While only Robert went on to be a priest (he has two older brothers), the entire family was surrounded by the Catholic faith. The Pillar shared in an article prior to Leo’s election that “When Robert Francis Prevost was growing up in Chicago in the 1960s, a steady stream of priests passed through his family home. They were drawn by the irresistible dishes prepared by his mother, Mildred Martínez.” At the time, Mildred and her husband Louis, who was a catechist at their church, probably thought their faithful witness to their children was simple — important, yes, but simple. And isn’t it? By welcoming priests into their family life, by putting aside time to teach the Faith to others, they cultivated a domestic church where vocations grew. As Adele from @simplelifemusings on Instagram shared in reaction to this quote, “Mildred, a devoted librarian and active parishioner, created a home filled with faith and hospitality. Though she passed away in 1990, her quiet dedication sowed seeds that would blossom into her son’s vocation, culminating in his election as Pope Leo XIV. … As Catholic mothers, we often labor in the unseen, nurturing souls without immediate recognition. Mildred’s story reminds us that these humble acts, guided by the Holy Spirit, can bear extraordinary fruit — even if we don’t witness it ourselves.”

Saints don’t come out of nowhere

In her post, Lauren reflected: “This is the domestic church. The place where faith is caught as much as it is taught. The place where vocations begin — not with grand declarations but with quiet repetition. With imitation. With ironing boards turned to altars and playtime turned to prayer. … And that is what we pray for now,” she continued, “… A Pope who reminds us that the domestic church matters — and that the world still needs the kind of faith that is born in living rooms, carried in lunchboxes, whispered in bedtime prayers, and set out on ironing boards.”

My heart leaped with joy at these words, and it reminded me of a favorite passage from the introduction of “A Family of Saints” about St. Thérèse of Lisieux and the Martin family. The author writes: “‘Nature does not make sudden leaps.’ It is by stages that the level of the ground rises to its culmination. Though sudden interventions and thunderbolts are not unknown, preferably grace also proceeds by slow stages. In order to cause a peak of sanctity to emerge, God works at and raises up a whole series of generations. Giants of holiness who rise up in isolation and detached, as it were, from the family territory are rare. … Normally, the saint receives his early fashioning in the home circle.”

To those who of you are not married or do not have children of your own, your influence on our young souls is still of great importance.

The bigger Church family and fostering vocations

And yet the home is more than just the walls in which you sleep and live. It’s also the broader community of the faithful — the people who sit next to you every week at Mass, the friends and relatives who celebrate life with you, the priests and religious in your community. All these people have the chance to form our children. 

So, yes, mothers and fathers, be encouraged that what you do in the hiddenness of your home can shape saints. But to those of you who are not married or do not have children of your own, your influence on our young souls is still of great importance. How many young boys might balk at the idea of serving at Mass when suggested by their father, but will reconsider and be emboldened to serve when encouraged by another male mentor? How many young girls might never consider religious life, whether because religious sisters are not present in their community or because no one has ever told them it’s an option? And of equal importance, consider that the majority of Catholics are called to marriage. While their parents’ marriage is naturally the most influential in their discernment of the sacrament, being surrounded by other holy and happy marriages of people of faith can greatly benefit their discernment; and this influence cannot be understated when we consider how so many people grow up in homes that do not reflect God’s image for marriage. In short, vocations are not discerned in isolation, just as saints are typically not made outside of a faithful community. Growing up amid a thriving Body of Christ is one of the best gifts we can give our young people.

Growing up amid a thriving Body of Christ is one of the best gifts we can give our young people.

Lauren concludes, “May we all be encouraged. Because this story reminds us: the Kingdom is always being built … even in the quiet corners of our homes.” May it be so in our lives.

Ava Frecker is the founder and editor of Caeli. She is a midwestern girl with a heart for supporting people’s stories. She’s also a Jane Austen enthusiast, chai tea addict, grammar activist, amateur sourdough baker, and gal pal to St. Thérèse — on whose feast day she married her beloved, Dominic. They now have their sweet boy, Linus. Follow her on Instagram @avalalor.